


Don't Go

by startrekkingaroundasgard



Series: Loki Bingo 2020 [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Ghosts, Goodbyes, Hearing Voices, Magic, Sad Ending, Suggestive Themes, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:41:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27132619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startrekkingaroundasgard/pseuds/startrekkingaroundasgard
Summary: When Loki died on Svartalfheim, the reader, a practising sorcerer on Midgard, accidentally pulls his spirit across the realms and traps him there in the apartment. As the years go by, a special relationship develops between them. Today, on the anniversary of his death, everything is about to change for them again.Loki Bingo Square: E5 - “It’s two in the morning. Go to sleep”
Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Reader
Series: Loki Bingo 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1910923
Comments: 8
Kudos: 37





	Don't Go

He was there again. Watching you from the shadows, lurking on the edges of you room as you slept. His presence was sharp as a knife, the dangerous edge dancing across your bare skin with every step he took towards you. You could hardly recall a night when he hadn’t hovered in the darkness, when your sleep had been your own and you had been free to lose yourself to slumber without him around.

Trapped in a bubble from the outside world, the noise and clamour of a bustling city drifted to nothingness as he strode towards your bed, the clanging of his heavy boots silenced by the same magic that separated you from the rest. Drowsy, you turned your head towards him, the only response he would accept even by a mind muddled with exhaustion.

Frozen fingers traced the lines of your face, mapped every imperfection and blemish. The trail dipped lower, his icy touch following your jaw, slowly – so slowly – as if he was savouring you like a stolen piece of artwork, breaking every law for a single moment of forbidden contact. You knew he thrived on that; rules were meant to be ignored and nothing would stop him from taking what he wanted.

It drove him to be more brash, to splay his hand across your chest, holding you down against the mattress. His thumb caressed your collarbone, drawing shaky breathes from your lips, your body reacting to the gentle swirling patterns against your will. Sleep and the bliss of unconsciousness slipped away as he cleared the fog from your thoughts, the magical touch igniting something in the depths of your mind.

Rolling over, your hand passed straight through his body as you waved him away. Stupid ghosts. Face buried in a pillow, you groaned, “It’s two in the morning, Loki. Go to sleep.”

“I’m dead, dearest. I don’t need to sleep.”

“Well, I do. I’ve got work at five.”

Loki curled up against your side, his body slotting perfectly against yours. A heavy arm snaked around your waist and held you tight, cold lips peppered hungry kisses along your neck. He made a very convincing argument, you thought, as he slipped a hand beneath your night shirt but tonight was not the night for such things.

You shrugged him off and rolled over once more, bringing you face to face with the spirit. Your attempts to brush the long, tangled hair from his face were futile; as you’d discovered so long ago, he was capable only of a one way interaction. Loki could touch you, tease you, hurt you however he wanted but you could never return the favour.

Solely to make you feel better, he pushed the errant strand of hair aside himself. Tucked behind his ear and away from his face, it revealed one of the many cracks that littered Loki’s skin, a harsh reminder of the cold death he had endured. And that was precisely why tonight had to be different. You would not be distracted by his silver tongue, his pretty words or lover’s touch. For try as he might to forget it, to hide the date and ignore all mention of the past you knew the truth: today was the anniversary of his death.

“Talk to me, Loki.”

“I thought you meant to sleep the night away.”

“Don’t deflect, dear prince. You know what today is.”

He flopped onto his back and stared up at your cracked ceiling, hands linked together to hide his anxious twitching. The moonlight illuminated the dirt under his nails, the dried blood around the nail beds. In all the years you’d known Loki, he had never gone into detail about how or where he died – natural, you supposed, given that it had to have been quite the traumatic event.

You joined Loki on your back and shuffled as close as you could without phasing through him, hoping that he could feel a comfort from the warmth of your body even if you could not feel him. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not particularly.”

“Can you still hear them?”

It was a recent development, Loki’s hearing voices. He had hid it from you well but when you came home late one evening and found him curled up in the corner of the room, tears streaming down his cheeks, voice hoarse from silent screams, the truth had finally spilled out. You could only imagine what horrible things they whispered in his ears, what terrible taunts they hissed to break him so completely.

Honestly, you weren’t expecting a response. So often Loki fell back on silence to answer your questions, the thick emptiness often supplying the information you already knew. Tonight, though, Loki surprised you with an actual reply. “They’re getting louder. Clearer. I can discern one voice from another, hear what each individual is trying to say.”

Morbid curiosity was a terrible thing. You knew it hurt Loki to hear them but you couldn’t help wonder what they were saying, to have your own awful suspicions confirmed. However, you couldn’t put Loki through that. So, instead, you said softly, “I’m sorry. But if it helps… I went through the old grimoires that Mr Jali sent over. I think I’ve found something promising in one, to help you pass over.”

“I have told you many times that your efforts, though appreciated, are unnecessary.”

That wasn’t true, though. You carried a considerable guilt for the part you played in confining Loki to this current state. All you had meant to do was open a channel to the afterworld to speak to a family friend that had recently died. Instead, by some complicated magical accident, a mistake in your rituals, or perhaps a twist of fate, you had instead conjured Loki, caught his as he passed between the worlds and yanked him across the universe to your apartment.

Since then, no matter how you tried to encourage him to move on, no matter what magic you called upon or which spells and charms you created to ease his passing, the Asgardian remained tethered to you. Trapped between life and death, an echo of the man he once was, able to touch but never feel. It had to be hell for him.

You had searched far and wide, travelled all the way across the globe to read scrolls and records from witches long gone to try and find a way to help Loki. In all that time, you’d never once found anything of concrete value but you were certain this time.

“It’s worth a shot, though. Right?”

Loki hummed noncommittally, his sadness lowering the temperature of the room so much that you had to pull a blanket around your shoulders. Tugging on the tattered edges, you muttered, “I know the past few things we’ve tried haven’t worked but with a little faith -”

“I have all the faith in your magical abilities, dearest. Trust that my sorrow is rooted elsewhere.”

“I don’t understand. I thought you’d be happy to move on.”

“And leave you?” He stiffened as if realising exactly what he’d admitted. Covering his face with his hands, those long fingers shielding you from the pain in his eyes but unable to distort the obvious emotions in his words. “You are not the force that has kept me here on Midgard.”

Suddenly everything made a little bit more sense. “You chose to stay here. With me.”

Loki sat up straight, moving with such speed that you almost experienced whiplash. You turned your face up to him, eyes flickering shut as he ran his fingers through your hair. It was a distraction for you both, designed to make it easier to confide his feelings. He stumbled multiple times anyway.

“When you first called me here, I wanted to leave. Unlike my brother, I have very little love for Midgard nor its people. I was furious that you had intercepted me on my journey.”

“I remember,” you hummed. “You tried to stab me with a pencil.”

“Thank the Norns that you were of sharp enough mind to conjure a protective shield to stop me.” He smiled softly, fingers stilling momentarily before continuing through your hair. “I could have moved on then, if I had truly tried. The magic holding me here, your magic, was weak. I could have broken the spell. I was a coward, though. I didn’t want to find out what was waiting for me on the other side. I knew, of course, that I would be heading straight to Hel.”

Your heart tightened in your chest. “Oh, Loki, no. Don’t say things like that.”

“It would be no more than I deserved, my dear. It matters not, though. The longer I stayed, the more I desired to remain. Because of you. To see you grow as a sorcerer, to teach you the intricacies and the pleasure of wielding a seidr, has been my privilege.”

Loki reached down to your hand and linked his fingers with yours, the solid-not-solid nature of his presence as strangely comforting as ever. He ran his thumb over your knuckles and pressed a kiss to the top of your skull, lingering in a moment that you wished you could save forever. “Your magic has grown so strong these past years, you have no idea the strain it has caused to fight back. To keep the tides at bay and anchor myself here when the very person I am holding onto is trying to push me away.”

“If I’d realised -”

“Do not ever burden yourself with that weight. I will never place blame upon you. I know you acted in my best interests. It’s just that I know better, now.”

“Loki… This feels a lot like a goodbye.”

He chuckled and it felt as if the entire universe was sighing. “Always so perceptive.”

Tears prickled in the corners of your eyes. Despite all of your best efforts to help Loki pass over into his eternal rest, you weren’t really ready to let him go. There was still so much to learn, so many stories to share. All the times you had laughed and cried together, when he had been there to help you through the hardships, to celebrate the highs and successes.

Loki had been a part of your life for years now. There was no one else in the world that you felt so close to. He knew your secrets, had seen you at your worst, and still treated you with the love and respect – and sarcasm – that you deserved. It was selfish but you didn’t want to lose him.

You fiercely wiped at your eyes with the rough blanket, angry at yourself for being so weak. “You don’t have to go.”

“It’s time, dearest. I no longer fear passing. You see, the voices… They aren’t coming from Hel. They never were. It has simply taken time to discern their meaning, to pull the truth from their whispers. It is neither a torture nor a punishment. It is the fallen of Asgard. My mother. They reach for me from Valhalla and it is time that I answer their calls.”

“I feel like my heart will break if you leave me.”

“You are so much stronger than that, my darling.” Loki wrapped his arms around you, a tight embrace from which you had no desire to escape. You wished you could hear his heart beating, imagining that the steady thump might have brought you some comfort.

Loki tugged lightly on your hair, forced you to meet his watery gaze. He wore a bright smile; a gift, you realised. Your last memory of him would not be sad, rather blindingly brilliant as he had always been. He cupped your face in his hands and said, “You will achieve incredible things. Remember that, dearest. You are magnificent and I shall watch every success from beyond with pride in my heart.”

He was already slipping away. You could feel it in his touch. The pressure of his fingers against your skin was fading, the ever present tingle of his foreign magic drawing back like a tide returning to the sea. You squeezed your eyes shut, tears falling freely down your cheeks now as you turned into his touch.

“But I love you…”

By the time you opened your eyes, he was gone.


End file.
